


Ever Shall Be

by Missy



Category: 1776 (1972)
Genre: F/M, Married Sex, Reunions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail is and ever shall be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever Shall Be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XII, prompt: 1776, Abigail Adams/John Adams, devotion, compliments, yours. thank you to Amber for beta!

Abigail knew her husband must have missed her when he actually offered to get a room at the Harvard Inn for a big to-do. It must be serious if John was spending money. Still, she quickly and quietly packed a valise, left the children for the week in Quincy with her sister, and hired off to the center of town, where her husband awaited.

When she opened his door, John stood by the fire, still clenching a letter from the Congress in his fist. But he dropped it when she rushes into the room, holding her hoopskirt up, dropping It when they met heart to heart.

“Abby,” he murmured into her neck before melting into her tender kiss.

“Oh John,” she murmured.

“Did you miss me?” he asked. Gently, he began the long process of playing ladies maid, undoing the many layers of petticoat and stomacher.

“So much, Johnny,” she confessed. “And you?”

“Every day,” he confessed. She worked open his waistcoat and shirt, then helped him slide down his breaches. Underneath she encountered his warm, firm, fair body, the body she had adored since she was a stripling woman-child and he a wide young blunderbuss of an aspiring lawyer.

There was no carrying off to bed; no caveman’s carry, but a walk, hand in hand, to the mattress. His hands were strong, reverent, as they strummed every inch of her silken body, and hers likewise with his round, hair-roughed one. Their knees made the coiled rope springs rustle as they wrapped arms around each other - lips tarried at the hollows of necks, on lips and closed eyelids, slipping to whisper sweet nothings in ears before stiffening nipples and taunting cocks and clits to rigidity.

Abigail laughed softly as she took John into her body again. “Welcome home, my love,” she sighed.

“Welcome and well-met,” he replied. “Oh, Abby.”

“No words. We have no need for them.” He rocked his hips and she moaned. “Don’t wait for me, Johnny – I’m there.”

His thrusts and withdrawals came close together, beats of heart and flutters of muscle. His finger made her blossom bloom, and Abigail flew with a morningdove trill; John was above her and behind her, though his shout was that of an elephant seal calling for his love.

John smiled into her breast – she knew he was happy to still find her firm and fair. “Yours,” she sighed into his neck. “I’ve missed you terribly, Johnny.”

“And I you, Abby,” he said. “And I you.”


End file.
